


Oh, What A Feeling

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, they adopt a dog together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: Usually, when your boyfriend of five years comes to you, carefully explaining he loves you, and would be honoured if you would take the next step in your relationship together, your mind wanders to other places.  Keith had been more than ready to say yes, so he was slightly surprised when Shiro, instead of proposing, announced he wanted to bring a bundle of joy into their home.“Aren’t we skipping a step?” Keith had asked, face white as a sheet.  His soft, happy fantasy morphing into the less happy thoughts of high-pitched screaming and endless diaper runs.“What?” Shiro’s sweet expression temporarily scrunched into confusion. “Keith, I meant we should get a dog.”





	Oh, What A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @mifune_chi on twitter for commissioning this sweet story! I hope I did the idea justice!

When Shiro had come to Keith only three weeks prior, excited look upon his face and expectant gaze aimed at his partner, all Keith had thought at the time was ‘I’m glad Shiro had a good day.’

He hadn’t been expecting to end up here.

Usually, when your boyfriend of five years comes to you, carefully explaining he loves every part of you, mind, body and soul, and would be honoured if you would take the next step in your relationship together, your mind wanders to other places.  Keith will admit, he was the first one to think of white roses upon a subtle, silver table cloth.  A band playing in the corner, perhaps a live singer as well.  All his friends and family there to witness as they tell the world they belong to one another.

It had been a good fantasy, and Keith had been more than ready to say yes, so he was slightly surprised when Shiro, instead of proposing, announced he wanted to bring a bundle of joy into their home.

“Aren’t we skipping a step?” Keith had asked, face white as a sheet.  His soft, happy fantasy morphing into the less happy thoughts of high-pitched screaming and endless diaper runs.

“What?” Shiro’s sweet expression temporarily scrunched into confusion. “Keith, I meant we should get a dog.”

\---

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” Keith asks, gripping Shiro’s hand in his as they make their way through the parking lot of their local shelter. 

Shiro only chuckles, ruffling Keith’s hair, tugging him closer so their sides are pressed together while they walk.

“Don’t worry, Keith.  We’ve got this!” It’s hard for Keith not to believe Shiro.  His optimism is contagious.  “Like we discussed, we’re not looking for anyone too big, or too young.  Someone low maintenance that will be happy in our apartment while we’re away, and we can control at the park on walks.  Someone who needs a second chance.”

Keith nods, smiling.  He’s nervous about this, but coming from a variety of foster home environments has, if anything, taught him how to adjust and adapt to any given situation.  Yet the way Shiro describes it makes it sound so easy. 

Though Keith is a realist at heart, and understands it won’t be easy, but Shiro explained that it doesn’t have to be hard, either.  Shiro had grown up with a dog himself, and firmly understands the work and commitment it takes to raise a feisty, canine companion, but he was also adamant about the rewards that come with it.  Keith became smitten with the idea, and has fallen asleep to images of Shiro wrapped up in bed, snoozing peacefully beside a golden retriever.  Or maybe a schnauzer.  Once or twice, even a shih-tzu.  Though Keith is quickly turned off the idea of having a small dog when he remembers their neighbour from a few years prior; an older woman with a chihuahua who, despite their pleads, cries and eventually, harsh complaints, would not. Stop. Barking.

In the end, Keith’s only condition was they get a dog big enough that would understand the importance of the command ‘quiet’.

As they walk through the automatic doors, Keith can already hear the yapping and cries of the various animals the shelter houses.  It fills Keith with a kind of excitement he can’t really explain, but it’s an excitement he likes.  Just like when he and Shiro had decided to move in together, Keith had been filled with a kind of warm, blessed sensation that had thrummed through his veins, a sense of contentment and gratefulness for being able to take such a large step with a man he loved and trusted so deeply.

Keith’s only felt like this a handful of times, and has never been able to put a name to it, but it’s nice to know the feeling again.

That sensation only intensifies as Shiro threads their fingers together and strolls confidently up to the counter.

“Hi there!” Shiro says cheerfully to the lady behind the counter.  Keith reads ‘Cheryl’ and then ‘volunteer’ on her name tag.  “We’re here to look at adopting a dog!”

Cheryl is fairly helpful, and has them fill out a few forms while she goes to make sure the dogs are ready for visitors. 

Keith tries not to get overly excited at having to fill out the forms _together._   As a unit.  Both as one.  Not separately.

“I can fill out all your details and contact information for you, Keith,” Shiro says, quickly filling in Keith’s date of birth and other enquiries the form requests.  Keith clutches Shiro’s arm as he works.  Though the form allows for them both to have their contact information present, it only requires one signature. 

Shiro doesn’t hesitate to ask Keith to sign.

By the time they’ve finished, Cheryl is back.  She quickly looks over their form before leading them down a hall that will take them to all the dogs they currently have up for adoption.  As they walk, their shoes creating a heavy _tap tap_ against the vinyl, Keith peers curiously into the other rooms they pass. 

One is merely a supply closet, piled high with dog food and cat litter.  Another looks like a clinic room, medical supplies and charts propped up against the walls, and the last room holds the cats.  Keith can’t help but stare into this room the longest, noticing several furry friends pawing at their cages, meowing for attention they won’t get, or huddled into corners where they might get a moment’s peace.  His heart aches slightly.

Shiro had grown up with dogs, if not his own, then the others that lived in the neighbourhood.  Keith had grown up in the desert, then in the city, then out in the country, then in the desert again.  None of his ‘homes’ had ever had pets.  Yet he had always found a certain solidarity in cats.  Not only were they self-sufficient, but they were honest about their intentions and open with their feelings, something Keith had sorely needed growing up.  The only access Keith ever had to a pet was the ratty, old stray that would come by the house sometimes to snack on the scraps Keith would offer. 

He had never stayed long, only long enough to eat, get a quick scratch behind the ear, and then scurried off to who-knows-where for who-knows-how-long.  Keith had never questioned it, but wouldn’t deny he had missed the cat during the in-between weeks, and he missed the cat especially hard when he had been shifted away once again.

Being without his own pet for so long, Keith had never bothered to entertain the idea of adopting a furry friend.  Even when he had turned eighteen, moved out and settled into an apartment far from where he had made any sour memories growing up.  He had become content with the company around him, even more so when he had met Shiro, and their budding friendship had grown into so much more.  He hadn’t thought he’d ever miss caring for an animal, in exchange for even the minimal amount of gratefulness.

Yet, here they are.

They finish passing the room of cats, and Keith squashes down the yearning in his heart.  It’s only nostalgia, he tells himself, for that stray who had been but only a small part of his childhood.  They were here for a different kind of companion, one Shiro had specifically requested, and Keith refused to go against his boyfriend’s wishes for something as mundane as re-living some dormant memories.

“Here you are!” Cheryl announces, leading them into a room that is filled with a different kind of energy to the one they had just passed.

There are dogs everywhere, in all shapes, sizes and colours.  All showing different degrees of enthusiasm to see new humans in their space.  Keith recognizes that no animal is dumb, and these dogs most definitely understand what new humans mean.  It means a chance to leave.  A chance for something better.

Keith squeezes his grip on Shiro’s palm, his heart quickening when Shiro only squeezes back.

Shiro carefully explains exactly what they’re looking for, Cheryl listening with rapt attention.  She doesn’t hesitate to flitter around the room as Shiro’s request grows more specific.  Keith is glad to see she seems to know her stuff, as she points out several pooches that fit Shiro’s description to the T.

In the end, there are four dogs in total that will be suitable for their lifestyle and home environment.  Keith has to insist that, no, they do not have room for all of them.

One is a black and white collie, four years old but still full of love and life.  Another is a mixed breed, tawny in colour with white socks on its paws.  The next is a breed Keith recognises as a cattle dog, though aged enough that she would only need the occasional exercise to keep her entertained and happy.  The last, however, is someone special.

Keith doesn’t need to hear the full description of this dog before knowing, without a doubt, this is their dog.

He’s a scruffy thing, with mattered fur by default and spots of brown over his back, and one covering an ear.  His eyes are a deep brown, full of happiness and instant devotion upon seeing them, sticking his muzzle through the cage door in an attempt to get at Shiro’s hand before it’s even been offered.  He doesn’t bark, only whines, high pitched and needy as he licks at their fingers. 

His missing right leg doesn’t deter him from leaping up at them when the cage door is finally opened.

His name is Riot, a terrier-cross, only three years old.  Keith listens as Cheryl explains he’s fully vaccinated, de-sexed and toilet trained.  He doesn’t bark often, and they’re assured his missing limb won’t prevent him from living his life as if it weren’t missing at all.  Keith assures her he never thought it would, while he shares a knowing look with Shiro.

Riot loves them, and Keith isn’t surprised to find that they love him.

“This one,” Shiro declares, though has a hard time getting his words out as Riot intends on licking his face clean.  “Definitely this one!”

They’re allowed to play with Riot a little longer, while Cheryl finalises the paperwork.  In that time, they’re delighted to learn Riot isn’t only toilet trained, but understands the commands sit, speak and shake.  He falls short on stay, but Keith figures he can be forgiven considering he probably doesn’t get so much attention all that often.

Cheryl returns moments after they learn Riot knows the unsolicited command ‘climb’.

They pry Riot from Shiro’s shoulder, and begrudgingly place him back in his cage.

“We have a 24-hour cooling off period before pets can be taken home,” Cheryl explains.  “We hope you understand!”

Keith and Shiro nod in affirmation, having known this before arriving, but are still sad to be separated from their new family member.  Both had grown attached so quickly.  Keith could already see all three of them, walking through the park on a windy day, he and Shiro wrapped in scarves and mittens, and a tartan coat for Riot. 

He imagines Shiro throwing a ball, Riot racing through golden leaves to retrieve the toy for his master.  Keith imagines them all in their living room, warming by the heater, or taking jogs along the beach once the weather is warmer.

Keith can’t help but feel ecstatic, welcoming the budding feeling in his chest, as unrecognizable as it is.

“It’s only for a little longer,” Shiro explains to Riot in a quiet voice, scratching his brown ear through the cage door.  “Then you’ll never be locked up like this again.”

While they walk back down the hall, Shiro and Cheryl settle on a date for Riot’s homecoming; both Keith and Shiro have work the next day.  Yet this time, Keith can’t help himself, and pauses by the room of cats.

Cheryl and Shiro are still talking, so he wanders in of his own accord. 

This room is far quieter than the one next door, though Keith can still hear the various barks and commotion despite the distance.  He follows the wall of cages, taking note of the different felines locked inside.  Most are fairly stationary, only giving Keith a brief look before shutting their eyes again or going back to licking themselves.  Only a few of the younger cats stick their paws through the door, meowing at Keith, who can’t help but reach over and stroke their soft fur as he passes.

It’s in the far corner, the darkest corner, that a particular cat catches Keith’s eye.

He knows it’s not the cat from back then, that one was brown, this one is black, but their eyes are remarkably similar.  Bright gold, peering at him from the back corner of her cage, blinking at him almost lazily.  Her ear has a deep split through it.  Her fur falling off in some places, her snaggle tooth sticking out from her bottom lip.  She’s not pretty, by any means, and for the brief moment she stands to adjust her position, Keith notices she has a limp in her back leg, and no tail.

Keith crouches down, peering into the cage, sticking his finger through the door, trying to get the cat to come closer. 

She doesn’t, barely giving Keith a second glance. 

“That’s Happy,” a voice says behind him, startling Keith.  Keith turns to see a young man coming up with a bucket of cleaning supplies and a bag of new cat litter.  “Wrongly named, of course, but it’s the name she came in with.  Definitely looks like she’s seen her fair share of trouble, huh?”

Keith can only nod mutely.

“I have to clean her cage,” the man announces.  “Do you want to hold her?  She doesn’t bite.  I think she’s too old for it.”

Without a second thought, Keith agrees. 

Happy is passed to Keith carefully, and curls up against him instantly.  She settles against Keith’s chest, doing that thing cats do, pressing her head into the crook of Keith’s arm.  One of her legs dangles out, and Keith can’t seem to adjust his hold to save it, but Happy doesn’t seem to mind.

“She’s so gentle,” Keith observes.

“Yeah, she’s definitely not the most troublesome patient we’ve had, just undesirable.  Her age and looks don’t do much for the adoption process,” Brad, Keith had read briefly on his name tag, says while he works.  “People always want cute and cuddly.  Not old and ugly.”

Keith flinches at the word, thinking Happy is far from ugly.

He holds Happy a little while longer, not minding that he’ll never get the fur off his jumper, when Shiro approaches them, giving his boyfriend an inquisitive look.

“I was curious,” Keith explains.  Shiro only nods in amusement, giving Happy a soft scratch.  Happy doesn’t seem to notice, and if she does, she doesn’t show it.

“Alright, all done,” Brad announces.  “You can put her back now.”

He says it as if it were easy.

Keith knows Happy can’t come home with them.  They have decided on a dog, and already promised Riot a new forever home; Keith would never go back on that, but it still pains him as he carefully places Happy back in her cage.

She seems to return to it with a resigned atmosphere, as if she’s used to returning to her dark corner; not expecting anything as to never be disappointed.

Keith hates that the feeling is so familiar.

“Ready to go?” Shiro asks quietly.

Keith nods, taking Shiro’s hand as they say good-bye to Happy and head toward the shelter’s entrance.  Shiro explains he’ll pick up Riot on Thursday, when he has two days off.  Keith knows he’s working that day, but is already looking forward to coming home to their new companion.

“I can’t believe that cat’s name was Happy of all things,” Shiro chuckles once they’ve left the shelter.  One hand is on the steering wheel, the other a warm weight on Keith’s thigh.  “Talk about cruel irony.”

Keith briefly remembers Brad’s ‘old and ugly’ comment.

“She wasn’t necessarily unhappy,” Keith feels the need to defend the cat.  “I think she’s just been through a lot.”

“I can relate,” Shiro says, humming as he pulls onto the freeway. 

“I hope she finds where she belongs.” Keith never meant it to mean anything when he said it, so absentmindedly, starring out the window at the world passing by, wondering what must it be like to be locked in a cage with no hope of ever coming out.

\---

Thursday comes too slow for Keith’s liking.  His shift seems to move even slower.  His boss, though he had informed her extensively of the events transpiring at home, gives him no sympathy, still keeping him until the very last moment of his shift.  As soon as he’s free though, he races home as fast as he can.

Shiro has already texted him, saying Riot’s retrieval had gone smoothly, followed with a photo of Riot wrestling with one of his new toys on the balcony.  He seems ecstatic to be somewhere new, somewhere that would promise safety and comfort for the rest of his days. 

Thankfully, the convenience store in which Keith works is only a twenty minute walk away from their apartment, which quickly becomes only eleven minutes once Keith sprints through all the cross walks.  Upon reaching their apartment, Keith messes up unlocking the deadbolt in his excitement, already hearing the anticipated scratching on the other side of the door.

Shiro has to hold Riot back by the collar while Keith gets inside, but once the door is firmly shut and secured, Keith has himself an armful of dog and a faceful of delight.

“Down!  Down, boy!” Keith tries to command, his heart not in it as he laughs, hugging Riot as best he can while the boy refuses to sit still long enough even to be hugged.  He much preferrs sniffing every part of Keith he can reach, then racing for the balcony, then racing back with a toy, only to race  away again before Keith is given the chance to throw it.

“He’s been doing this all day,” Shiro explains, finally getting a chance to kiss his boyfriend in greeting.  “I don’t think he’s caught on to the concept of ‘fetch’ just yet.”

Keith laughs as Riot brings him another toy, only to be off once again as soon as his mouth is free.  His mere three legs don’t slow him down at all.

“Maybe it’s his way of thanking us for rescuing him from that shelter.” Keith makes his way to the living room, managing to get a pat in as Riot bounds past, dumping his bag onto the couch beside the cat. 

“I’m sure his energy will wain slightly after we take him to the park tomorrow,” Shiro says.  “Though I’m glad to see he’s good at sharing.  Even Happy gets offers of affection.”

“Nice to see he already has manners,” Keith laughs.  They both do, sharing another kiss between them while Riot causes trouble around them. 

It’s when they separate, does it hit Keith what Shiro has just said.

“Wait.  Happy!?” Keith turns, finally taking full note of the bundle of patchy fur lying on the couch.  Happy doesn’t even open her eyes, simply flexes her paws against the cushions and goes back to sleep.

Keith is speechless, and so confused.  He tries to remember when they had agreed to adopting a cat, and one such as Happy.  Had it been during one of their rushed mornings?  Maybe when he had been half-asleep, or concentrating in the kitchen?  Had he not read one of Shiro’s messages? 

“This- But she- When did you-  How!?” Keith’s mouth opens and shuts like a fish. 

Riot bounds up to them again for attention.  Shiro scratches him behind the ear.

“The look on your face when you were holding her,” Shiro begins, still petting Riot, yet not looking away from Keith’s face.  Keith finally rips his eyes away from Happy, convinced she won’t disappear in a puff of imagined smoke, looking at Shiro now.  “I’ve seen that look only three other times.  Once, when you were accepted into college.  Again, when we first looked at this apartment.”  Keith scrunches his brows together, trying to anticipate what Shiro is getting at.  “And every day, when you look at me.”

Keith gasps softly, unmoving as Shiro envelops him in a hug, pressing his lips to Keith’s ear and nosing at his hair.  Keith, finally getting the feeling in his limbs back, returns the gesture, burying his face into the crook of Shiro’s neck and hugging his boyfriend so tight his arms hurt.

“You’re so undeniably selfless, that I know you’d never ask for her of your own volition,” Shiro continues, his words soft against the shell of Keith’s ear.  “But I could tell you wanted to keep her, to give her a second chance, much like how we gave each other second chances ourselves.  I dropped in to sign the adoption papers during one of my breaks, so the cooling off period would be over by the time I had originally planned to pick up Riot.”

Keith doesn’t cry, but he does feel his heart swell in his chest, threatening to squeeze his lungs of air and his brain of all thought.  He digs his nails into the back of Shiro’s shoulders, nuzzling closer, and whispering a heartfelt ‘thank you’ into his boyfriend’s skin.  Shiro only squeezes Keith back.

When they part, it’s with tears on the brink of falling and soft brushes of lips and whispers of ‘I love you’.  Then Riot is nosing in between them, and Shiro goes to find one of his toys.  Keith sits with Happy, petting her delicately, elated when, amongst the commotion and sudden change in scenery, she begins to purr.

Their lives have never been dull, but it certainly won’t be from here on out.  Yet, as Keith gazes at his boyfriend while he wrestles their dog into the carpet, and as their cat climbs onto his lap and falls asleep against his stomach, he’s glad there is a different kind of peace to be found in all of this.  In the way Riot eventually quietens and lies down on Shiro’s chest for a nap, in the way Happy licks at her paw before resting it upon Keith’s palm.  It’s their own kind of peace, one Keith recognises in every cell of his body, that unrecognisable feeling forming into something Keith can finally name.  It’s the feeling he never knew growing up but couldn’t bare to be without now.

It’s the feeling of home.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @KinkyKeithy!


End file.
